


Pride

by purpletheory



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:17:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletheory/pseuds/purpletheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid has been acting strange around Hotch and he hasn't a clue why or what to do about it. Reid wants to avoid Hotch because of what he learned about himself. Gideon is all knowing. Hotch/Reid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hotch stood just behind and to the right of Reid as he took aim at the target. He cocked his head, noticing Reid's hands shaking as they sought to still themselves. He shot off four rounds and completely missed the target each time.

Hotch cocked an eyebrow, "How were you able to pass the first evaluation?"

Reid turned his head back, his lips pouting and his eyes wide.

"I-I'm normally not this bad."

He turned and slowly got back into position and shot four more times. Each bullet missed the target yet again.

Hotch opened his mouth but didn't say anything as Reid quickly turned the safety on, pulled the clip out and turned towards his boss, pushing the gun handle up into his hands, clip and all. He pushed past him and quickly exited the range, jerkily pulling off his safety equipment as he went.

Hotch stood there for a moment, confused as to what had just happened, but eventually stowed the shooting equipment and heading towards Gideon's office.

He leaned against the doorway and waited until Gideon acknowledged him before coming into the room and sitting down. The older man didn't look up from his files but murmured, "What is it?"

"Have you ever seen Reid shoot?"

Gideon looked up, "I gave him his initial evaluation. Why?"

Hotch's eyebrows rose. "I just watched him, now in the range. He missed the target every time."

Gideon picked up the file again and said, "Maybe it was because you were there, because Reid may not be the best but he got eight rounds into the hot zone."

Hotch sat back, his mind going through all the possibilities, "He asked me to watch him. Eight out of ten?"

Gideon gave up on the file, closing it and taking his glasses off. He watched Hotch began to profile the young genius, patiently waiting for either a question or a conclusion.

"Reid was shaking and his hold on the weapon was a little off."

Gideon just waited.

"He asked me to watch him because he thought he wasn't going to pass his evaluation. What if he asked me to watch because I made him nervous? He obviously acted nervous. Was he trying to induce a stressful situation to see how his shooting did? Why would me watching him be stressful? If he was that good of a shot why was he worried about his evaluation?"

Gideon finally spoke up after the slew of questions, "Reid is a genius. His version of good at something is very different than our good at something. He has a lot of self-esteem issues when it comes to things that don't directly relate to intelligence and book smarts. He is trying to get your approval."

"If he was trying to induce a stressful situation, he wouldn't have given up so easily. It seemed as though he was upset about something."

"Did you say something to him?"

Hotch's brows drew forward, "Yes, I asked him how he had passed his first evaluation and he left without saying a word." He winced.

"I think you hurt his pride. I also think he was frustrated by the fact that he couldn't perform while you were present. It seems he was trying to prove something to you. It might be wise to go find him."

Hotch stood up decisively but then cocked his head to the side, "Why would my being there bother him so much he can't even hit the target once?"

Gideon folded his hands, "He looks up to you a great deal. He is worried about what you'll think of him."

Hotch nodded and left the room without saying another thing.

Gideon picked up his file, hiding a small smile. He knew what was going on but it was up to them to figure it out for themselves.

Hotch looked around the office, but didn't see the skinny doctor anywhere. He came up to where Morgan and Elle were bantering over lunch. "Have either of you seen Reid?"

"He came through here maybe ten minutes ago. He grabbed his stuff and I think he went to get lunch."

Hotch nodded and went back to his office. He would have to catch the young genius later.

It was forty-five minutes before Hotch saw Reid slip back in, sipping another coffee and sit down at his desk. He got up and buttoned his jacket but was stopped by JJ. One look of her face and he knew they had a case. He took the file and looked it over before nodding to her. She left to give everyone else on the team a copy and to tell them to meet in the conference room.

Hotch read the full file on the way towards the room musing that he would have to remember to talk to Reid after this case was resolved.

As Hotch and Reid were sitting side by side in the Darkened ER, Reid's face already bruising form the force of the assault rifle hitting his face, Hotch knew that he shouldn't have waited to talk to Reid. He should have reassured him because what he was about to do would depend on Reid's ability to shoot and his ability to understand what Hotch wanted.

The crazed nurse was listening to him. He was nodding and Hotch knew he had the upper hand. He took a breath and asked the man if he could have the pleasure of beating Reid up before they all were going to die. The man seemed to like this idea so Hotch ignored the frantic looks the Reid was shooting him and the armed nurse. Hotch violently shoved him to the floor and began to kick him. Reid did little to fight back, he tried to protect his more sensitive parts and he covered his head. At first Hotch thought Reid wasn't getting his plan but as he planted a particularly vicisous kick to Reid's arm he felt the man's slim fingers on his ankle, taking the hidden gun there. Hotch almost closed his eyes in relief but stepped away, pretending to catch his breath. He got out of Reid's line of fire and Reid immediately sat up and fired. He shot the man directly in the heart.

Hotch ran to the door where the swat team was about to rush in and start shooting and ended the situation.

The hostages were released and everyone was looked over for any medical problems. The body was taken out and the BAU's job was done. Hotch had just finished talking to the local police when he spotted Reid finally taking some medical help. He sat in the back of an ambulance where an EMT fussed around him. Hotch walked over to him.

"You did well."

Reid looked up, his cheek swollen a little bit from where the man had hit him with his rifle but he gave a nervous smile.

"As I said, I'm not usually that bad."

Hotch looked at him for a moment before saying, "Sorry, I needed it to be believable so I kept kicking. I wasn't sure if you understood my plan."

Reid tucked his unruly hair behind his ear stated that he had known the plan the minute Hotch had thought of it and went on to say that Hotch kicked liked a nine year old girl and that he was tough enough to take it.

Reid hopped down from the ambulance, but stumbled as his feet touched the ground. Hotch grabbed his arm and Reid winced. It was the arm he had landed a harsh blow to. An angry purple bruise covered the majority of his upper arm to just past his elbow.

He let go and apologized.

Reid waved him off and began to give Hotch back his firearm. Hotch looked at him; his beat up agent. His youngest agent whose injuries were mostly due to what he had done to him.

"Keep it. You've passed your evaluation, as far as I'm concerned."

He watched as Reid's face flushed with pleasure at his comment. He nervously tucked his hair behind his ear again and nodded with a small smile.

Hotch turned around and left for the car. All the way home, he couldn't stop thinking of the young genius. He felt pretty terrible for having to hurt him, but he wondered more about why Reid had performed so badly in front of him earlier. Why had he been so nervous?

As he finally fell asleep that night, he resolved to ask the agent tomorrow.

Hotch strode into the office the next morning, feeling rested but not looking forward to the paperwork he knew the day would contain. He was always there first, after Gideon, and he watched his team trickle in from his desk.

Morgan leaned his head in a half hour later, "Have you heard from Reid? He hasn't come in yet."

Just as Hotch was about to get up and investigate, Reid walked in, looking as if he hadn't slept at all. Morgan went to greet the younger man and Hotch watched as he gingerly lowered himself into his chair.

He frowned. Reid was hardly ever late and he seemed extremely sore. He stood up and called out, "Reid? Can I see you in my office for a minute?"

Reid turned around and he grimaced. He slowly got out of his chair, said a few words to Morgan and shuffled towards Hotch.

Hotch closed the door behind him and nodded to the chair. He went to sit also and looked at his youngest agent's face.

Reid's eyes were shadowed and his hair was still wet and disheveled from a shower. He sat ramrod straight in the chair and gazed expectantly at Hotch.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked softly.

Reid looked startled and said, "Yeah, why?"

Hotch gave him the eyebrow and said, "You look as if you haven't slept at all and you're moving very slowly. Are you hurt more than you are saying?"

Reid shook his head vehemently, "I just had trouble sleeping last night. I'm fine."

Hotch didn't believe a word. He stood up, beckoning the man to follow him. He left his office and went down the hall stopping at a rudimentary exam room.

Reid opened his mouth to protest but Hotch glared at him. He said nothing and went inside. Hotch shut the door and turned to the counter, pulling some gloves out and putting them on. Reid was standing awkwardly in the center, his Adam's apple bobbing as he said, "Um, What are you doing?"

Hotch just said, "Sit."

Reid sat.

He turned towards the young genius, "Now take off your shirt."

Reid spluttered a little, "N-no! Why?"

"Because you obviously lied to the EMT's last night and you are lying to me. Take your shirt off, or I will do it for you."

Reid flushed completely red with embarrassment and began to slowly take his vest off and started on the buttons of his shirt.

Hotch watched him as he revealed new bruises and red patched of skin and when he was done, he came to stand in front of the younger man on the exam table. Reid was thin, but he had light muscling in the right places. His skin was normally creamy white but it was marred by Hotch's beating.

He ran his finger over the bruise that he had known about, on his arm and then thoroughly investigated the man's pale skin. There were bruises and broken skin everywhere. He remembered kicking him but he didn't remember it being this hard.

"Spencer…" he breathed as he continued to find new wounds.

"I-It's not as bad as it looks. I-I bruise e-easily."

Hotch had gone to examine his back and found a vicious bruise on the small of his back that disappeared below his belt.

Reid crossed his arms in front of him and said, "Please, it's not that bad."

Hotch shook his head and told Reid to take of his pants.

The young man almost lost it, jumping off the table and stuttering out that it wasn't necessary. Hotch just glared at him and went to the counter to grab some gauze, triple antibiotic cream, and some arnica. He was surprised to see it in there but mentally thanked L for her foresight. When he turned around, Reid was still standing holding his arms in front of himself with his pants still on.

"Reid, you need to take your pants off so I can make sure you aren't hurt any further. I saw you sit down and walk, you have more wounds."

Reid shook his head but began to shakily undo his belt. He didn't look at Hotch at all, but pulled his trousers down and stepped out of them. Hotch came to stand in front of him, realizing that the bruise from his back came around to his hip and disappeared beneath the line of his underwear. He reached out and pushed lightly on that hip. Reid cried out and lost his footing. Hotch caught him and led him to the table, setting him up on it. Then, he began to wipe at the broken skin and spread antibiotic cream on them. He gave the tube of arnica to Reid and said, "This will help your bruises heal faster and help them hurt less."

Reid took the tube silently and after a few moments began to squeeze some out onto his fingers and he started to rub it onto the bruise on his arm, wincing as the skin protested to the pressure. Hotch cleaned up his torso, and moved to the broken skin on his thigh. Reid's breathing hitched and he tried to move away. Hotch held him there and tended to the particularly nasty cut before covering it with gauze.

He then pulled Reid's underwear down a little so that he could see his left hip a little better. The bruise was very heavy and he was certain that the hip bone was severely bruised. Reid pushed Hotch's hands away and scrambled off the bench, limping out of range of his boss.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I'm fine. Oh my god."

Reid was trembling and he was in such a defensive position that Hotch stopped to really look at him. He had been so focused on tending to his wounds that he hadn't looked at his face. Reid's face was red and he was breathing heavily. His eyes were wild and he was biting his lip fiercely.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Reid began to struggle into his pants saying, "I'm fine. T-thanks for the help but I'm ok."

"Reid, you have a bruised bone. You need to take it easy." This statement just made Reid struggle even faster. Hotch went over to him and still his arm.

"I'm so sorry for having to do this to you. I had no idea I had hurt you so badly."

Reid pulled his arm away and continued to dress quickly. "It doesn't hurt that bad, I'll be fine. I'm fine. I know why you had to do it. You were saving our lives!"

He pulled his vest on and made for the door. Hotch got in his way, "Spencer, stop avoiding this, you need to rest. You should go back home."

Reid shook his head, but Hotch grabbed his chin, forcing him to finally look at him, "That's an order."

Reid stared at him with tired eyes, and Hotch studied his face. He looked at the bruise under his eye that was the only wound marking Reid's body that he hadn't been the cause of. Reid looked down and sighed, "Okay. Fine. I'll go home."

Hotch moved out of his way and Reid left, walking as quickly as his hip would allow.

Hotch stayed there for a moment, remorse flooding him. He hated seeing Reid so hurt because of him. Now his mind flashed back to yesterday and he could match each kick of his leg to the wound on Reid's body.

Finally he left the exam room and went to Gideon's office.

Gideon was looking out the window when he came in.

He sat down and looked down at his hands, realizing he hadn't taken off the gloves yet. He pulled them off as Gideon said, "How's Reid? He took quite the beating yesterday."

Hotch sighed and nodded, "He is in bad shape. I bruised his hip bone and broke his skin in a half dozen places. He looks like hell."

Gideon turned to look at him, "You had to do it to get everyone out of there alive."

"I shouldn't have done it so hard."

"What's done is done. It can't be helped now. Reid doesn't hold any resentment towards you for it. He will for sending him home, though."

Hotch looked up, "He will? Why? He needs sleep. He is no good here."

"You saw his weakness and you made him leave. He came in today because he wanted to prove his strength. He is worried that you and the rest of the team think he is weak now."

"He took a massive beating, no one is thinking that!"

Gideon touched a hand to Hotch's shoulder.

"I think Reid feels he has to try harder than everyone else to get your approval. He has a frail body type, he is socially awkward, and he is the youngest member of this team."

Hotch breathed out slowly, "He is the smartest man I have ever met, with more strength than most people on this team. He isn't weak. I…"

"You just feel responsible for his condition. But, Aaron, have you ever told him that? That he is the smartest man you have ever met and that he is strong? Like I said yesterday, Reid has a very low self-esteem. He may know that he is a genius but when he never gets compliments or often gets rebuffed for sharing knowledge he gets beat down. He obviously has a poor body image because he came in today to prove his body could take anything."

Hotch put his head in his hands, "I made him take his clothes off. So I could bandage him up."

Gideon hid a smile behind his hand, "He probably hated that. He hates that he is so small and skinny."

"I didn't think of that. God, I've got to go apologize to him."

Gideon stopped him from leaving and told him to wait, "He does need rest, just let him be alone today and when he comes in tomorrow, which he will, then you can talk to him."

"You really think he will be in again tomorrow?"

"Yes, and don't send him home, it will only hurt him further. Just let him be. His mind needs things to focus on while his body heals, and he will have greater distraction here than at his flat."

Hotch nodded and left to begin working on paperwork, shaking his head at his own blindness.

Gideon let his smile slip out when the younger man left. Aaron Hotchner was so oblivious. Given Reid's intelligence and ability not to compartmentalize, Gideon believed he had realized it himself, but there was no way he had figured out Aaron. Despite the young man's brilliant profiling ability, his boss was as much of a mystery as women were.

Gideon patted himself on the back for being the only one who saw it all. Hotch and Reid were in love with each other.


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer lay on the couch in a miserable huddle. He couldn't believe Hotch had made him take his clothes off. In front of him! And then he had almost started to take off his underwear too! He groaned and buried his face in a pillow. He had gotten home, slammed doors, and changed into sweatpants and an old green lantern shirt.

He wasn't a neat person, but he also wasn't terribly dirty or disorganized but he left his work clothes on the floor and the coffee mugs littered everywhere. He flopped down on the couch and moaned at the pain in his hip.

He had just wanted to go to work and get on with business but Hotch had to make a big deal about it.

He didn't want everyone to know that he was hurt that badly. Seeing Hotch's disappointment when he had looked at his chest had been so awful. He couldn't say no either. Hotch always got his way.

Having Hotch's eyes on his nearly naked body had been awful. He was taking in all of Spencer's weakness and all Spencer wanted to do was run and hide. But Hotch had come over and touched him, and cleaned him up and bandaged his broken skin. His hands had been gentle and he had been so focused on his task. He touched the wound on Spencer's leg and he almost jumped out of his skin. Having Hotch touch him so intimately was doing crazy things to his brain.

When he pulled at his underwear Spencer knew he hadn't been thinking of his privacy at all, he just wanted to see his wounded hip, but he had to move away. This was too crazy. It wasn't something he had enjoyed, even though in any other situation, having Hotch touch him would be amazing. Having him see only his weakness was mortifying.

Spencer had come to realize a couple weeks ago that he had started to think things about his boss that stepped way outside the bounds of a normal supervisor/subordinate relationship. When he asked Hotch to supervise his shooting, he thought he would be fine, maybe even impress him, but having Hotch so close behind him had made him so nervous that he missed every shot. Hotch had asked how he had passed his first evaluation and Spencer's confidence fell. He tried four more times, missing even worse than before, and gave up, walking out angrily. He had just wanted a little advice, maybe spend some time with Hotch and instead he made himself look completely incapable of carrying and using a gun.

Then the L.D.S.K. case had gone down and Hotch had said those hurtful things and beat the crap out of him. He knew that Hotch didn't mean the words but they seemed to come out too easily. He kicked like a demon and when he came over to apologize, Spencer tried to act tough; even telling Hotch that he kicked like a nine year old girl. His body ached. His heart hurt. He understood why Hotch and said and done what he had, he just wished it hadn't happened. At least he had managed to shoot straight this time. If he had missed, Hotch would have died. Everyone would have died.

He just wanted today to be a normal day, but instead he got humiliated further.

He turned on the TV and tried to find something to dull his embarrassment and settled on old Star Trek reruns.

Eventually, he got up to make some pasta, and after eating he put the arnica cream on his bruises. His hip hurt every time he moved, and his bruises only got darker. He hadn't known that he had a bruised bone but it made a hell of a lot of sense.

He eased himself into his bed. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, he felt exhausted and almost thought that Hotch was right to send him home. Almost.

He slowly drifted off to sleep, vowing to do better tomorrow.

He slept all evening and all night, waking up at 6:30 when his regular alarm went off. He stretched and encountered very stiff muscles and joints.

He showered and got dressed just like every other day, but it took him much longer due to his injuries. He was determined to prove to Hotch that he could work today, so he walked out to his car as evenly as he could, trying his hardest not to limp.

Even though he tried to leave early, he was still the last one in the office again. He was only five minutes late but it felt like a decade. He eased into his chair and looked over at Morgan who was eyeing him.

He waited for the expression of concern but Morgan just came over and asked, "So what did Hotch have you do yesterday? He told us you were doing a personal assignment."

"Agent Morgan, it was a personal assignment and it was also private."

Spencer almost jumped when he heard Hotch's voice as the man passed by his desk on the way to the printer.

Morgan rolled his eyes and gave Spencer a questioning stare.

Spencer shrugged as mimed a 'tell you later' gesture and got to work on the loads of paperwork that followed each case.

Elle and Morgan asked how he was feeling and he said he was fine, but by the time lunch rolled around, he ached and he was irritated by the concern on his friend's faces. He wasn't hungry so he declined the offer to join everyone at the local café and headed to the shooting range. He still wanted to practice.

He got all of the equipment out and set up the targets. He began to shoot, making every bullet into the hot zone. It wasn't until he went through a full clip that he realized someone else was in the room. He turned and saw Hotch leaning against the doorway.

Spencer blushed and set the gun down.

Hotch pushed off the doorway and made his way to stand in front of the younger man.

"You are really good. Why didn't you shoot like this the other day?"

"Um…"

Spencer shrugged, unsure of what to say. He wasn't looking his boss in the eye, and he fiddled with his hands.

"Go again."

Spencer looked up as his boss handed him a new clip and nodded his head towards the targets.

Spencer gulped and turned around. He loaded the gun and cocked it. He could feel Hotch behind him, looking over his shoulder.

He shot off the entire clip, hitting the target once in the hot zone, twice in the leg and the rest went wide completely. He sighed and lowered his hands, popped the clip out and turned towards Hotch. He placed the gun back on the table and just looked at Hotch. He sucked for some reason. Just because Hotch was in the room. Just because he had feelings for Hotch and wanted to impress him.

"Do I make you nervous?"

Spencer raised one shoulder but gave no verbal response.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. You showed up to work because you knew you could take it and I sent you home. I didn't mean to make you mad. I'm also sorry I, uh, made you take your clothes off in front of me."

Spencer's mouth dropped open. Hotch hardly every apologized to anyone, and he was never this intuitive.

Hotch took a step forward and grabbed Spencer's arm, pushing up his loose sweater sleeve to touch the beginnings of the harsh bruise. Spencer was speechless. He let Hotch step closer.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I needed to see the damage I had caused. I'm so sorry for hurting you. I want you to know that you're the bravest and smartest man I know. You are a brilliant agent and you saved my life with your quick thinking."

Spencer just stared at Hotch, his mouth still open slightly. Keeping his hand on his arm, Hotch brought a finger up to gently close the young genius' mouth. He was smiling in amusement.

Spencer smiled tentatively back.

"How are you feeling today?"

Spencer felt like brushing him off, like he did to all the others this morning, but something in his eyes made him say, "I'm tired and I ache really badly right now."

"Have you tried taking anything for the pain?"

"No. I… don't use drugs often."

Hotch turned and beckoned towards him, "Well come on, we can get you some light medicine and maybe something to eat."

Spencer followed him, feeling so much lighter from Hotch's comments. They got into Hotch's car and went to the drugstore before picking up sandwiches on the way back to the office. Spencer hadn't talked so easily with anyone but Morgan in a very long time.

"Did you know that modern cruise control was invented in 1948 by the inventor and mechanical engineer Ralph Teetor? His idea came from the irritation of riding in a car with his lawyer, who kept speeding up and slowing down as he talked. He wasn't, however, the pioneer on the subject as centrifugal governors had been used on the mechanical projects since the late 17th century."

Hotch glanced at him, smirking a little bit. "Did you know that you always start off by saying 'did you know' when you know that no one will know that fact?"

Spencer blushed but appreciated the fact that Hotch was teasing him instead of just brushing his rambling aside like usual.

They sat in the car and ate and Spencer hesitantly took some medicine. He watched Hotch as they talked. He was always so serious. It was nice to see him smile, if only for a moment.

They went inside and Spencer sat himself back down on his desk, feeling much better than he had earlier. He had just started back on another file of paperwork when Gideon came up to his desk.

Gideon was one of the most amazing agents that Spencer had ever met. He was famous for profiling and catching even more famous criminals for decades. Spencer was in awe of him. He jumped and sat up straighter. Gideon wasn't a closed off man, but neither did he bother to talk to him outside of a case.

Gideon chuckled, "Relax. I just wanted to see how you were doing. You were great on that case."

Spencer beamed at the compliment and just said, "I've been feeling better today."

Gideon nodded and leaned against the desk next to him, "Hotch really appreciated your courage and accuracy. Neither of you would be here without it. He tells me you have been in the shooting range lately. It's good that you've been keeping up on that skill."

"Did he also tell you that I completely missed every shot when he was there? It happened again today, albeit with a little more success but still a massive failure." Spencer frowned, thinking.

"What is different when Agent Hotchner is in the room? Is it because he is your boss?"

"Well… you are my boss too and I had no problem on my first evaluation. It was just like the temperature had gone up in the room and I couldn't concentrate. I wanted to impress him but all I did was disappoint him."

Gideon's eyebrows rose at that statement, "Hotch certainly isn't disappointed that you saved his life." He lightly touched Spencer on the shoulder and told him he was glad he was doing better and left the office to get a late lunch.

So far Spencer had a good day, but as the work day ended, he was feeling more and more exhausted. He was one of the last people out, telling Morgan he would see him tomorrow and gathering up his things tiredly. He made his way to the steps and just as he was about to gingerly use them to get to his car, his left leg gave out and he stumbled. He gave a shout as he fell down the concrete stairway and landed heavily on his hip. He gave a muffled scream. His body was on fire. His head swam and it took him a moment to hear the voice that was talking to him.

"Reid? Spencer, can you hear me? I need to call an ambulance."

"No! I'm ok. I just fell." Hotch's face appeared in his blurred vision, tears leaking from his eyes without permission.

"From the looks of it, you hit your hip."

Hotch rolled him over so the pressure was off his injured leg and Spencer took a deep breath.

"Just don't call an ambulance ok. I don't need that kind of help."

"What kind of help do you need?" Hotch's voice was soft and Spencer closed his eyes.

"I just need to go home," he tried to get up but cried out again in pain.

Hotch stopped him from trying again by picking him up. Spencer gave a squeak of protest but he was too tired to say anything anymore. Hotch took him to his car and settled him in the passenger seat.

The older man drove him to his flat with a little instruction from Spencer.

Spencer was so exhausted that his head started to loll to the side and rest against the window pane. His whole body felt like a dull throb.

He hadn't even realized that they had arrived outside his flat until he felt Hotch's arms pull him from his seat.

Spencer let his head fall against his supervisor's chest and he closed his eyes again. Next thing he knew he was on his couch and Hotch was pressing a bag of frozen peas and carrots to his hip.

Spencer hissed at the contact of the frozen bag to his tender skin but he relaxed as the pain began to ease. He slumped back against the arm of the couch.

"You push yourself so hard, don't you?"

"I have to," Spencer was drifting off into a deep sleep when he heard the indistinct rumble of Hotch's reply. He passed out thinking he should have cleaned up yesterday. His place was a mess.

When the genius woke up, he was covered in his blankets from his bed but still on the couch. The small of his back was supported by a pillow and his hip felt much better. He made to get up but stopped short, seeing black hair next to his elbow. His eyes widened and he was fully awake in seconds. It took him a moment to see that it was Hotch. He was asleep, with his back resting against the couch. The man's hands were lax by his sides. He had taken his tie off but he still wore his suit. Spencer ogled him for a moment more, dumbfounded by this development.

He sat up as slowly as possible but he was only quiet until his hip stretched. He made a muffled cry of discomfort and immediately he felt a hand on his back.

He turned to look down at Hotch. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were sleepy.

"Mmm. Are you ok?"

Spencer shivered at the sleep roughened voice.

"I-I'm fine. I just woke up."

Hotch was waking up more by the moment. He sat back on his heels and yawned.

Spencer just sat there, trying to shift his legs over the side of the couch and finding it difficult.

Hotch took ahold of his knees and was about to help him swing them around but Spencer pushed his hands off, "I can do it!"

Hotch just sat there as Spencer settled himself into a more dignified position and flopped his head back, tired again.

"I know you can do it, I'm just trying to make it easier."

Spencer waved his hand in an 'it's ok' gesture and blew out a huge breath, "D-did you sleep here?"

"Uh, yes. I wanted to make sure you were alright. You kept thrashing around," Hotch didn't look at Spencer and got up, wincing at the stiffened muscles caused by sleeping on the floor in that position.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered quietly. Now he just felt even worse. He must have been having a nightmare or something. They happened often.

"It's nothing, really. I'm glad I was here. You could've hurt yourself further. Damn. Thank god it's Saturday."

Spencer slowly got off the couch and shuffled to the small kitchen. He was still in his work clothes but he realized that Hotch must have taken his tie and shoes off. He blushed at the thought as he began to make coffee. He drank so much coffee that he had tons of mugs. It seemed to be the only gift idea that Morgan could think of. He was grateful of his friends lack of creativity now because even though his flat was covered in dirty mugs, there were two clean ones left in the cabinet. One said, "World's Biggest Know-It-All" and the other just had a picture of Garcia, Morgan, and Elle on it.

He poked his head back into the living room and asked nervously, "Uh… would you like some coffee?"

Hotch was sitting in the only other chair, a very uncomfortable one he had found on the street. He was still blinking the sleep from his eyes and he yawned, "That would be great. Just cream if you have it."

Spencer had tons of cream. If there was one thing he kept stocked up on, it was coffee fixings. He had decided years ago that he liked the idea of coffee, just not the taste. He had to cover it up with sweet sugar and flavored creams. He particularly liked the Irish cream flavor.

He upended the last of the sugar tin (~5 tablespoons) into his mug and then covered it in cream, then he poured coffee into both mugs. He stressed over how much cream to put in it and ended up using a graduated cylinder that he kept in the cupboard for these kinds of things.

He took both of their mugs out and said, "Here, I put 14 ml of cream in there. That's almost a tablespoon."

He flushed as Hotch just stared at him.

"I, uh, wasn't sure how much to put in."

"Why do I make you so nervous?"

Spencer shifted his weight and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, "I'm… not terribly so. I don't think."

Hotch took a sip of his coffee and just continued looking at him, "If Morgan came over here would you worry about how much cream to put in his coffee?"

"Morgan doesn't drink coffee, he drinks tea. He thinks it's better for, uh, male sex organ stamina. I've told him several times that there aren't any correlations between the components in coffee and sexual performance but he still drinks it. He doesn't want anyone to know that, so don't tell him I told you."

Hotch had started smiling while Spencer explained and he was chuckling by the time that he finished.

"What's so funny?" Spencer asked confused and hoping his boss wasn't making fun of Morgan. If Morgan knew he had told anyone, he would kill him.

"You're too much sometimes, Reid," Hotch laughed.

"I-in a good way?" Spencer smiled experimentally.

"Of course. Well, I think I'm going to get back home. It's good to see that you're ok; make sure you rest as much as you can today and tomorrow."

Spencer nodded and walked Hotch to the door. He took his now empty mug and looked up at his boss, "Thanks for, um, taking care of me. Oh, and please don't tell Morgan I told you that."

Hotch started chuckling again, "He will never know you spilled that particular secret, believe me. Call me if you need anything, ok?"

"Ok," Spencer whispered as Hotch walked briskly to his car. The young genius shut the door and turned around to look at his messy flat. He still couldn't fully believe that Hotch had stayed the night on his living room floor just to make sure he didn't hurt himself again.

He shook his head and decided to take a hot bath and then maybe take a nap again. He could try and figure out the puzzle that was Hotch later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and lemme know what you think!  
> ~PT


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my best, but I've been working on it all day and need to stop.   
> Tell me what you think!  
> ~PT

On the car drive over to his house he tried to put Reid out of his mind. The young man worried him. He hoped they wouldn’t have a new field case too soon so that he could recover.  
He was almost embarrassed of himself for his behavior the night before. He had stayed much longer than he intended, and had actually spent the night on Reid’s living room floor. He had kept getting up to leave but ended up giving himself another reason to stay.  
He had looked for an icepack in Reid’s freezer and came up with one bag of frozen vegetables and some weird concoction of something that smelled like coconut in a Tupperware. He held the bag to his subordinate’s hip, kneeling on the ground in front of the couch. He should’ve laid the man the other way because he had to reach over his body to reach his left hip and his arm ached a little from the angle. Reid was almost asleep, exhausted, but he kept trying to wake himself up. Hotch told him that he pushed himself so hard and Reid had responded with the admittance that he had too. Then he was sound asleep.  
Why did he feel the need to push himself so hard?  
Hotch had shaken his head at the man and continued holding the makeshift icepack until it felt soggy. He put it back in the freezer and went to the door to leave. Then he thought Reid needed blankets. Since he couldn’t find any in the hallway closet, he just took them from Reid’s bed. He had thought of moving Reid to the bed but didn’t want to wake him up so he left him there. Then Reid started shifting uncomfortably on the couch and Hotch put a pillow under his back. When he was finally about to leave, he had his hand on the doorknob when Reid began to whimper and toss and turn. He almost fell off of the couch, but Hotch knelt by him and touched his arm, whispering that it would be ok. It was just a nightmare. After he soothed him back into solid sleep, he realized he could barely keep his eyes open himself, so he had settled on the floor with his back leaning against the couch.  
He had acted like a mother hen. But as he lay falling asleep he couldn’t help but think that it was nice to sleep near someone again, to hear their steady breathing.  
When Hotch got home he took a shower and called his wife.  
Haley and his son were on a trip with his sister-in-law. They had gone shopping for the weekend on the other side of the state. Haley was short with him but she allowed him to speak to Jack. Hotch spoke with the light of his life, the one purpose that he had in life to keep going. He loved Haley, but it wasn’t enough for her. If he was honest, it wasn’t enough for him either. She didn’t understand him. She mocked his ‘weird’ habits that anyone on the BAU team would notice as their own habits as well. He knew she couldn’t possibly understand, but he just couldn’t tell her either. He lived those things, and those habits were who he was. His job was the second most important thing in his life, after Jack. It was only in recent months that he had realized that. He had thought that it was third. After his marriage. Haley was hostile and she would take Jack on trips without telling Hotch, so he had a meltdown when he came home to a dark house with no family. He knew that he was bad at phone communication, but she never had been. Now she was doing it just to spite him.  
He knew it would only be a matter of time before his wife filed for divorce.  
He supposed he could do it, but the less than one percent of him that was a coward kept him from being the one to make the move. He no longer told Haley that he loved her, as she had stopped saying the same to him years ago. He only wanted what was best for his son.  
He still couldn’t be the one who started it.  
The one who said it out loud.  
Part of himself hated that he would rather Haley have to say it, but he did. Until then, he acted as normal as he could. He couldn’t let himself think about what would happen then. He had taken up residence in the guest bedroom. It was rather nice, with its own bathroom and two large windows. All of his clothes were down here. He didn’t even remember when he had first started sleeping down here. It had been so long ago. He knew that Gideon knew, but what didn’t the man know? He tried to keep it hidden from the rest of his team, and he thought he was rather successful. JJ suspected but she had to field Haley’s calls once in a while.  
Hotch put on some casual clothes and sat on the couch, taking up a book he had been trying to read for the past three years. It was a military lawyer book. He had only made it to chapter twenty. He always meant to put it in his go bag and read it on the way back from cases but he never ended up doing it.  
He gave up on reading after half an hour because his mind couldn’t focus on it. He kept rereading the same paragraph over and over. Since it was Saturday, the BAU were technically off but it was a rare thing to actually have a full weekend off. They ended up in the office one way or another. Usually JJ tried to keep them at home but some cases can’t wait. Hotch couldn’t remember the last time that he had had a full weekend off. It was probably back when he and Haley were on good terms.  
The fact that he worked so much didn’t bother him anymore. His family had extended to his team members and he enjoyed being with them. He wished he could spend more time with Jack but that couldn’t be helped now.  
Instead of attempting another form of leisure, Hotch decided to cook lunch. He hardly ever got to cook anymore, but back when he was a criminal prosecutor he used to be rather good at it. He decided on grilling a hamburger and making homemade fries. He had almost finished with the prep and turned on the grill when he cell rang. He groaned. He couldn’t give a number for the amount of times he had been interrupted with a case right before he was about to eat a meal but he was pretty sure the number was in the hundreds.  
He answered and heard JJ’s apologetic voice. They had a case and he needed to come in for the briefing. Before she let off she added, “Oh, and Spence’s car is here but I haven’t seen him.”  
Hotch had almost forgotten that he had driven the young agent home last night. “I’ll call Morgan.”  
When he did, he found out that Morgan was already to the office as well and he told the man that he would pick Reid up on the way.  
He pulled on a suit and refilled his go bag with clean clothes. He was well on his way to Reid’s when his cell phone rang again.  
“Hotchner.”  
“Hey Hotch. Um, it’s Reid. I don’t have my car so I can’t get to the office…”  
“I’m on my way to pick you up.”  
Reid’s voice was hesitant, “Oh ok, thanks.”  
When they hung up Hotch felt puzzled over the young man’s behavior. He was certain that Reid normally would’ve called Morgan for a ride, but he hadn’t.  
Reid was watching for him because as soon as he pulled up, he rushed out the door, his go bag around his shoulder. He slowly eased into the passenger seat and blew out a breath.  
“Are you alright?”  
“Yea, I just got ready quickly.”  
They drove to the office in silence and when the entire team was present; JJ passed out the files and began the briefing.  
“There have been series of killings in San Bernadino, CA.”  
Morgan asked his usual question, “How do we know they are the same person?”  
“Their hands were cut off and stuffed into their mouths.”  
“It’s his signature,” Reid murmured, taking in grisly photos.  
Hotch told them to get to the Jet and to call Detective Bronson and tell him they were on their way.  
He grabbed his go bag and headed for the runway.  
It took them about a five and a half hours for them to get to their destination. Everyone was wrapped up in their own thoughts about this new case and they brought up new ideas as they came. By the time they arrived, each had an idea of what they were looking for but they would know more when they got to the site.  
Hotch quickly gave out orders, keeping Reid with him at the station to talk to the officers and go over the evidence that they had collected from previous scenes. He wanted to keep an eye on the young genius as well as make sure he wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The officers were little help and though detective Bronson had been able to recover some prints, they weren’t in the system.  
The killer had been leaving notes at each dump site. It was tied around the victim’s neck and it seemed to be part of a poem or something.  
He came over to where Reid was examining each piece.  
“Hotch, I think he is paraphrasing William Shakespeare. It says ‘Reputations are idle and false; gotten for nothing, and lost for no reason.’ It’s from Othello. Each note says this exact same thing.”  
“So he thinks the women he is killing have false reputations, and that he is showing them for who they truly are?”  
Reid pulled a hand through his unruly hair, “It’s possible.”  
Reid and Hotch spent another 20 minutes looking over the material there when Morgan called.  
“We’ve got another body.”  
They arrived at the dump site as soon as possible.  
“This is the fifth body. He is speeding up,” Hotch caught Morgan and Prentiss up with what Reid had found and they told their experiences as well.  
“He doesn’t think his message is getting out. He feels the need to kill more to prove that these women aren’t who they say they are.”  
Reid came up with a bloodied piece of paper in his gloved hands, “Guys, this note is different. It says, ‘Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.’”  
“He’s not talking about the woman is he? He is talking about the us, right?” Morgan asked, looking at Hotch in concern.  
“It certainly sounds like that. Ok, let’s meet up with Gideon and JJ. After we get something from them about victimology we should be ready to give the profile.”  
Gideon and JJ had little to report. It just looked like the unsub was targeting blond women aged 30-40.  
“Where does the reputation part come in?”  
No one knew.  
When Hotch gave the profile, He noticed Reid’s eyes lit up, the way they did when he learned something new. The team finished and met back together.  
“What is it?” he asked looking at Reid.  
Reid hurried through his explanation, “When you were going through the profile I realized that it sounded just like the unsub was worried about lies and public figures. Each woman was someone who held an office of some sort. We didn’t realize the pattern because they were offices of varying importance. I mean, the woman we just found held the swimming association president office. But the unsub is mainly targeting people that are hypocrites. I think it must have something to do with his wife. Either his ex-wife or current wife holds an office somewhere. I’m willing to bet it’s something important. She has a public face and a private face. She either physically or psychologically abuses him. Either he is a small man or a man with a very timid personality.”  
JJ offered to update the profile, but Reid stopped her, “No! I think it may be a man who has current or prior experience in law enforcement. He has to have had a strong moral compass. He believes he is helping by showing that these strong women aren’t who they seem, even though his method is by killing them. It could be an officer, or it could be a lawyer or judge.”  
Morgan nodded, “If you’re right, then he is probably working up to killing his wife.”  
Prentiss agreed, “We have to move fast.”  
Hotch touched him on the shoulder, “Good job.” He sent the team out to start talking to the officers, as well as go to the state courthouse and see what they could dig up. 

___________________________________________________________________________________  
It turned out to be a judge. A man who was small in stature, and whose wife – who was also a judge – had been taking bribes and even going so far as to rig trials. She had also been psychologically abusing him for years. They caught him when a man working near his office identified him through the profile. They found him at home, with his wife passed out from a blow to her head. He had been about to cut her hands off. Both of them would go to jail. Prentiss was the one who found evidence of the wife’s crimes on their home computer.  
Hotch was satisfied with the team’s performance on this case. They had finished it in just under 24 hours.  
It was early morning by the time they were ready to head out. The team was absolutely exhausted. None of them had slept since the case had wrapped up. As they filed onto the plane and dropped into individual chairs, each of them settled into as much of a comfortable position as possible to sleep.  
Hotch found he couldn’t sleep. They were half an hour into the flight and he couldn’t get his brain to stop. He found himself watching Reid.  
Reid looked so uncomfortable, curled up on the plane couch. His neck was set at such a bad angle that his neck was sure to hurt when he woke up.  
Almost everyone was asleep. Gideon was asleep in his chair; Morgan across from him. The only one up was Hotch.  
Hotch was still looking at his youngest agent when the man started to whimper, his arms reaching up as if to cover his head. Hotch watched in concern until he heard a quiet sob. He got up and knelt before the couch. He remembered doing the same thing the other night.  
"Reid. Reid it's ok."  
The young genius didn't wake up. Hotch awkwardly touched Reid's hair. Brushing its disheveled curls away from his forehead, he tried again, "Spencer, I'm here. You're safe."  
The young man started to calm down, but he reached out and grabbed Hotch's head and pulled it to him. Hotch's nose was right next to the man’s clavicle; Reid was cradling his head and whimpering. Hotch smiled at this. Reid was kind of adorable. He reached a hand up and rubbed his back, reaching into his hair and trying to soothe him. His tactics worked and Hotch was able to pull his head away gently. He arranged Reid's hands against his chest and stood up.  
He must have been having a nightmare. He looked back at his chair and suddenly made a decision. He gently shifted Reid a little down the couch, and eased onto it, letting Reid's head fall in his lap. For the rest of the flight he watched over his youngest and most brilliant agent, halfway fiddling with the strands of brown hair that lay fanned out on his lap and looking out the window. He fell asleep after a couple hours of this, his hand stilling in Reid's hair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. Here is some more Hotch/Reid fluff.  
> ~Pt

Reid woke up feeling warm and more comfortable than he should be. He quickly became aware that he was lying in someone's lap. He shifted and turned onto his other side, facing the person. It took a couple moments for him to realize that his boss, Hotch, was looking blearily down at him.  
He sat up quickly, looking at Hotch with an embarrassed expression, "I'm so sorry," he whispered.  
Hotch was fully awake now, "Why are you apologizing?" He asked just as softly. The late afternoon sun was peeking through the windows lighting up a portion of Reid's face.  
Reid shrugged but blushed.  
"You were having a nightmare."  
Reid looked around quickly, wondering if anyone else had seen them. The plane was dark and it seemed that the rest of the team was still asleep.  
“I, um, just wanted to make sure you were comfortable,” Hotch sounded unsure of himself.  
Reid just raised an eyebrow at his boss, but settled more comfortably into the other side of the couch. He yawned and tried to trick his eyelids into staying open by blinking. He made a humming noise deep in his throat. He was still so tired.   
He almost fell off the couch as he tried to stretch his shoulders. Hotch caught him by the arm and chuckled. Reid blushed again and sat trying to reconcile his brain to being awake. He looked over at Hotch, who seemed far more alert than he. His boss stood and went over to his bag and got out a toothbrush and toothpaste. Reid yawned and figured he should have coffee or he would fall asleep again. He heard the pilot say over the speaker that they were starting their final descent into Quantico. No one else stirred yet, but as soon as they felt the wheels jerk out, they would. It was like clockwork. Reid was usually the only one awake to see it because the team almost always fell asleep after a hard case. He would wake from a nightmare, or try to stay awake so he wouldn’t have one and he would watch as the team all came awake at once. It was both amusing and slightly creepy. He got up and stretched again, making his way over to the coffee maker and starting it automatically. He stood there swaying as Hotch came out of the plane bathroom. Hotch smiled slightly at him and as he passed he said, “Pour me a cup, too? Just 14 ml of cream.”  
Reid blushed as he recalled how worried he was about getting the amount of cream right that morning that Hotch had stayed over. He nodded and smiled back.   
Reid had a graduated cylinder in his bag and he fought with himself over using it. Finally deciding that he shouldn't, thinking that Hotch would just make fun of him, he approximated the amount of cream and then quickly fixed his own sugary drink. Hotch was reviewing the case files on the table in front of him when he set down the coffee.

The serious man nodded his thanks, without moving his eyes from the pages.

Reid almost blurted out that he had a graduated cylinder in his bag but didn’t use it so there was more chance for error in the approximation, but bit his lip and simply nodded back.

Hotch smiled and they sat in silence until the wheels jerked into landing position. Reid watching in amusement as the team all came awake at the same instant. Morgan's eyes snapped open and he took his headphones off. Elle stood up and stretched while Gideon blinked tiredly and Put his glasses back on his nose.  
“You don’t do that,” Hotch murmured, taking a sip of his coffee.  
“Hmm?” He replied, looking out the window to see the city below.  
“You are always awake before everyone else.”  
Reid blushed at the thought that Hotch had noticed something like that. He shrugged and continued to sip his coffee, “I just don’t sleep as much.”  
“On purpose?”  
Reid shrugged again, unsure of how to answer.  
After a while he said, “You don’t usually do it either; wake up with the wheels.”  
His boss gave him the eyebrow as if to say, ‘Is that so?’  
He nodded, smiling over his coffee cup.   
They sat in silence until they landed twenty minutes later. The team shuffled off the plane, and started their after case rituals. They each went to see Garcia to say hi, and just to see if some of her vigor and attitude would rub off on them and help them get through the post case paperwork. Sometimes they were lucky and they arrived back home just in time to stumble to their respective homes and get some sleep. However, if they arrived anytime during a normal work day, they were required to get some of the paperwork done while the case was still fresh in their minds. Then they would start on the consultations and they rest of their work. Thankfully, they would only have a few hours at the office and then they could go home. Reid started a pot of coffee, and moved to his desk. He went through his drawers until he found his favorite pen, and started on the mountain of paperwork by his computer. By the time he looked up again, it was dark outside and the majority of the team had left. He vaguely remembered Morgan touching his shoulder and saying goodnight an hour earlier.   
They thought that he didn’t notice, but he knew that both Morgan and Elle slipped files into his pile, and made him do them. He was aware when it was his workload, and when it was theirs. The sad part was that they knew he didn’t have anything to do at home. Most of the time he didn’t mind helping them out, so that Elle could meet up with her friends and Morgan could go woo ladies at the bars, but sometimes he wished they didn’t always know that he had nothing to do. He wished that he had something to do outside of work and some days he felt like his team was holding him back from finding that something.   
But that was silly. They wanted the best for him. At least he thought they did.   
Most days he didn’t get home until ten or eleven and had just enough time to grab some dinner from a local take out place and then sit in his flat for hours on end, waiting to fall asleep, and waiting to go back to the familiar setting of the BAU.   
Sometimes he would head home and forget to get any food, his mind still whirling with other things like the case they just solved or the consultations he wrote in on. And he arrived at his place where he had nothing but coffee and freezer burned things in his kitchen that he wasn’t sure were safe to eat. So he would make coffee and forget that he was even hungry, by immersing himself within a scientific journal or a documentary on TV.  
As he finished up his last file, and put it in the ‘done’ pile he realized that he had almost stayed past the time that Hotch usually goes home. The man usually had several other things to attend to, but it seemed as though Reid had gotten the majority of his teammates’ files, so he hadn’t even realized that it was past eleven. He stretched in his chair, and gingerly rose to his feet.   
He was still feeling sore and he was just glad that their last case hadn’t required a lot of legwork. He slowly got into his jacket and started to pull his bag over his shoulder. His ribs protested and he groaned at the pain.   
“Are you feeling ok?” Reid almost jumped as he hadn’t heard Hotch come up behind him; he spun around and immediately regretted it. His hip was healing but it popped loudly and he cried out, putting his hand on his leg to steady himself.  
Hotch grabbed his shoulder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. What are you doing here so late?”  
“Oh well, I think I got more than my fair share of Elle and Morgan’s files so I was just finishing them up.”  
“What?” Hotch looked at him sternly, removing his hand to cross his arms in front of him.  
“I-I thought you knew?”  
“Knew what?” Hotch was not happy.   
Reid gulped, thinking that he should have kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want his teammates to get into trouble, even if he wished they didn’t do it so often. The look on Hotch’s face demanded an answer, and he started to ramble his way into a response that wouldn’t get everyone in trouble, “Well… Elle was meeting up with her friends at the Lady Luck tonight and I think Morgan had plans even before we went on the case and he was telling me that he wanted to leave early when we got off the plane so they gave me some of their files and I don’t mind really-“  
“Did they ask you to do the extra work?”  
Reid sighed, knowing that Hotch would immediately get to the actual issue, “No. They never do.”  
Hotch uncrossed his arms and glared at the young genius, “How long has this been going on?”  
Reid was quiet, unwilling to answer because it had been going on for years. Ever since he started working at the BAU. Apparently it didn’t matter what he said or didn’t say because Hotch was too good of a profiler to be thrown off.   
“That long? This can’t keep happening. You deserve your time off just as much as you do. Why did you think I knew? Do you think I would condone this behavior?”  
Reid pushed his hair out of his face and just mumbled that he thought that’s how it worked around here.  
“No, we all do our part. Equally. As a team.”  
Hotch turned away, heading for the door, but Reid grabbed his arm, “Please don’t get them into trouble. I could’ve told on them but I really don’t have anything to do after work… and they do. It’s alright.”  
Hotch turned and took in the man’s earnest face, “I cannot let it continue. However, I will not make a big deal out of it.”  
Reid blew out a breath he had been holding in relief, “Good, because Morgan is going to be so pissed anyway.”  
Hotch glared at him, “He has no right to do this. I thought you guys were friends.”  
“We are…”  
At that moment, Reid realized that he was insanely hungry. He cocked his head, thinking this was the first time in a very long time that he actually felt hungry. Usually, he ate just enough to keep going. His brain, more frequently than not, seemed to think that food wasn’t an immediate necessity and converting the time of day into binary – was.   
Hotch also cocked his head, no doubt confused by the sudden change of expression in his subordinate.  
“What is it?” He asked in concern.   
“I’m… hungry,” Reid said as if he didn’t believe he actually was.  
Hotch suddenly threw back his head and laughed. Reid watched with his mouth open slightly as his boss’ demeanor changed completely and his worry erased by the happy expression.  
When he finally settled down, he grasped Reid’s elbow and towed his behind him towards the door.  
“Let’s feed you, then. Know any good places around here?”   
Reid was smiling, unsure of how he had managed to cause Hotch to laugh so hard, and very pleased that he would be spending more time with Hotch. Outside of work, no less.  
“Uh yea! There is a decent Indian food restaurant down the block. We can walk to it.”  
They ambled off, in a comfortable silence, but when they got to the restaurant, they saw that it was closed.   
“Oh whoops, I forgot it’s the weekend and their hours are shortened for the day.”  
Hotch gave him a weird look, and Reid picked up on his train of thought.  
“Yes, I know I have an eidetic memory, but I’ve been…,” The young genius paused, before finishing lamely, “preoccupied.”  
Hotch snorted in response and turned back towards the Federal building.   
“What say you to raiding the local mini-mart near here and eating whatever we can find?”  
Reid hurried to catch up with his boss’s purposeful strides, “U-uh Y-yea, that sounds great.”  
Hotch didn’t ask, he just opened the passenger door for Reid, and rounding the hood of the SUV to climb into the driver’s side. As Reid hastily climbed in, he banged his head on the handle above the door that was used to stabilize oneself during a drive. 

“Fuck!” Reid muttered, and rubbed his head gingerly.   
He felt Hotch staring at him and he blushed, “What is it?”  
Hotch’s lips turned up in a little smile, “You are so accident-prone. Since when do you swear?”  
Reid pouted as Hotch started the car, “I’m not that bad.” This sullen statement only made Hotch’s smile widen.   
“Plus, I’m not a kid, I swear at times. There are just usually more intelligent things to say other than a curse word that evolved from meaningless middle English.”  
Hotch looked at him incredulously, “I’ve never heard you say one before.”  
Reid was quiet before saying, “You haven’t been around me long enough to hear it.”  
Hotch nodded in concession and they sat in silence before reaching the mini-mart.   
Reid went straight to the candy section and also grabbed a cup of noodles and brought them to the counter. Hotch was right behind him with a similar meal of a package of ramen and a frosted sticky bun. Hotch tried to pay but Reid put his foot down. If Hotch acted any more like they were on a date, he would explode.   
“We can just go to my house if you like; I have an eight hundred watt microwave with a little more than one cubic feet of internal space.”   
Hotch laughed at his statement, “Oh, well that’s much better than my microwave, I don’t even know the brand let alone the wattage or internal capacity.”  
They slid into the car, Hotch pulling out of the parking lot and heading to Reid’s flat. The whole time, Reid told him how to find out the wattage of his microwave even if he had thrown away the owner’s manual.   
“…If you put a grape inside and it starts to spark at ten seconds it is almost a twelve hundred wattage. It then decreases by the hundredth place each second it takes the grape to spark.”  
Reid finished up his spiel as he let them both into his apartment. Hotch’s eyes looked a little glazed, and Reid realized that he had just rambled about microwaves for more than 8 minutes, “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” He apologized sheepishly.   
“It is useful information. Just in case I’m playing trivial pursuit and the question is ‘how can you tell the wattage of a microwave through the flammability of a fruiting berry’.”  
Reid laughed at this, thinking how great it was that Hotch was teasing him.   
They microwaved their dinner, and sat in front of the young genius’ flat screen. When he turned the device on it was to the pause screen of the latest episode of ‘The Vampire Diaries’. He blushed and quickly changed it to a sports channel.   
“We don’t have to watch this, I know you hate sports.”  
“I don’t hate sports, per say…” But he turned the remote over to Hotch. When he changed it to BBC America, Reid glanced at him, “You don’t have to watch what I like either.”  
Hotch chuckled and then settled on the discovery channel. They watch the third day of shark week and Hotch talked about Jack’s favorite stuffed toy which was a hammerhead shark from the Atlanta Aquarium and Reid regaled him of the time he was pushed into the shark tank at the local aquarium in Vegas while in high school. He had tried to make the teacher believe that he had been pushed but she didn't believe him and accused him of causing a scene.   
He had actually had a good time that day; he liked seeing the animals, even if it ended up being much too close for comfort.   
They talked until the food was gone and the episode was over. Hotch stood and groaned, stretching. Reid tried his hardest not to stare at the man’s shoulders straining against his shirt.   
They said goodnight, and Hotch turned to leave.   
All of a sudden, Reid couldn't let him go. He wanted to run out after him and tell him exactly how he felt at the moment: utterly in love with him. He did run out but instead of confessing himself, he just said, “Hotch!”  
The man turned around, his eyebrow quirked in a question.  
“Um. Thank you,” he muttered as he patted the man awkwardly on the shoulder.   
Hotch smiled his little smile and brushed his knuckles along the outside of Reid’s arm and turns once more to leave. The man stands there until he can’t see Hotch any longer and his arm stops tingling from his touch. It wasn't until the cranky old lady across from him opened the door a crack and scolded him for ‘lurking’ outside her door in the middle of the night and shook the cat that she had in her arm at him.  
He hurried back inside, and for the rest of the night he thought of how peculiar it was that his stomach had just scored him both nourishment and a closer look into his boss’ life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think.   
> This is un-beta'd as well as written at one in the morning, so I apologize for any issues.  
> ~PT


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